I AM ELEVEN AND STRONG. Strong enough my parents are willing to take me along on their mission. Few dreamwalker children are allowed out so young, much less our rare and precious dreamweavers.
But my skills are exceptional, and my family is both influential and legendarily strong.
The journey starts out exciting—and gets boring fast. There is a lot of sitting and way too many chores and not nearly enough fighting for my taste. Dad wants to teach me about the land every time he lets me off the back of his quad, but after a while, it’s just a blur of stinky old plants and dusty ridges that all look the same.
Mom wants me to train, but I’m too distracted and worn out by the end of each day. I can tell she is too by the way she lets it go more days than not. That would never have happened a
